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The nurse had said Karry would visit
while I was recovering, but he never
appeared. I thought the nurse had lied,
but then I heard Karry had a serious car
accident and almost died.
Alarm shot through me. I insisted on
seeing him.
In the ICU, Karry lay unconscious,
only the faint condensation on his oxygen
mask and the rhythmic beeping of the
heart monitor proving he was still alive.
The nurse said he had the car accident
while driving to see me. Guilt washed
over me.
I shouldn’t have been so cold to him. I
even said I’d never felt his love. Seeing
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him so lifeless, a pang of pain pierced my heart. He’d cared for me and my parents
after our accident, but I only learned of his accident after I was fully recovered.
“I’m sorry, Karry.”
He didn’t owe me anything. At first,
it was me who forced him to be my boyfriend; his indifference was understandable. Then I gave up on him and faked my death to change my fate, but he found me again. I hated him for his previous coldness, but he just acted like
he deserved it.
My voice choked. Then, I saw his fingers twitch. I pressed the call button; a doctor arrived quickly. Karry awoke.
The doctor had left; the nurse was
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talking to me when Karry opened his eyes. He looked at me, his expression halting.
Emily Kane… didn’t she die six years
ago? No. He remembered the Kane family‘
s welcome party and realized this woman
was their adopted daughter.
He frowned, his dislike evident. He
stopped me as I walked to him.
“What do you want?”
His familiar, distant tone startled me.
I started to explain, then realized
something was wrong. This wasn’t the
Karry who had vowed to find me. This
was the Karry from the original plot
the one who hated me.
I composed myself. “Checking on you.
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Thank you for arranging care for my
parents and me after the accident. I’ll
repay you.”
Without waiting for his response, I left. My steps slowed. If this was the Karry from the original plot, where was the Karry who loved me? Had he vanished?
I left the hospital. My parents were
waiting for me in the car. They thought
Karry was seriously injured.
I shook my head. “He’s awake, but he
probably won’t want to see us again.”
They pressed for details, but I
refused to talk about it. When we were
almost home, the car stopped outside the
garage.
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“There’s a beggar at the gate.” The
driver said.
Curious, we gazed out the window. A
thin figure huddled there. My parents saw a beggar and wanted to send him
away. But for some reason, I had an
intuition. I got out of the car. My parents
followed as I approached the man.
“Who are you? What are you doing
here?”
The “beggar” looked up, revealing a
face I’d loved for years. His eyes lit up
upon seeing me.
“Evelyn, I said I’d find a way to be
with you. I made it. I’m not Karry
anymore. I’m Peter Jones. I lost
everything. Will you buy me again? I just
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need food and shelter. I can do everything
you want me to do.”
I understood. Karry Gatesby was the
hero. He had to follow the plot. And the
Karry who loved me had become Peter,
and he was penniless.
I smiled. “Okay. But I’m very
demanding. If you can’t make me happy, I‘
ll dump you.”
Peter nodded eagerly. “I promise I’ll
satisfy you.”
Decades passed.
I lay peacefully in a hospital bed,
awaiting death.
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Sounds faded; my breathing grew
shallow.
Yet, my consciousness didn’t
dissipate; instead, I entered a vast
emptiness.
A mechanical voice echoed,
“Welcome back to the Time
Management Bureau.”
A warm energy enveloped me.
Memories from centuries flooded my
mind.
I opened my eyes.
I remembered.
I’d been traveling through parallel
universes, saving myself from suffering.
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Each successful rewriting of my fate.
restored a piece of my soul.
A transparent screen appeared–the
next timeline.
I touched the “Travel” button.
The screen glowed softly, its
information shifting.
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